Red
by Depraved Doll
Summary: Oriya and Muraki's past, how they met and what their relationship was and now is... Oriya centric OriyaxMuraki first in a three part series


Red 

**Disclaimer- **I do not Yami no Matsuei or the characters, the plot however and various OC's are mine,

**A/N- **I have taken some liberties with Muraki and Oriya's pasts I hope it fits and the timeline works out ok, if not I'm sorry but I did try my best. Thank you and please R&R…

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When Oriya had been a child he had been the happiest he had ever been, blissfully unaware of all of life's pitfalls. Unaware of betrayal and hurt, he had grown up surrounded by beautiful women who adored him, for the most part. Of course it didn't take him long to realise that the Geisha's living within KoKakuRou mothered him more than his own mother. If he needed to talk he would go to one of them, if he needed help with his homework he would go to one of them. If he got scared he would go to one of them. If he had a nightmare in the middle of the night then he would go to one of their rooms, crying, they would smile warmly and allow him to sleep with them, saying that they would protect him.

He never received these things from his biological mother and he didn't expect to. She ran the restaurant and the goings on within it, he didn't really understand until he was much older what exactly went on within the establishment. He did however understand that because of that she was too busy to spend time with him. With time and age the Geisha's began to teach him their dances, he'd practise with them whenever he could. They would dress him up, buy him Yukata's and show him how to dress himself properly in them.

As the years went on though the Geisha's that he had grown up with, the women who had been more like mothers to him than his actual mother began to leave. They would pack their bags one day, then they would leave in the evening, giving him a kiss and a present and wishing him all the best. He would hug them and beg them not to go, weeping into their Kimono's, they would merely ruffle his hair and kiss his forehead, wiping away his tears as several fell silently from their eyes. They would hug him tightly for as long as they could, then they would pull away, smile, pick up their bags and leave.

He would sleep in their rooms the night they left and cry himself to sleep, the remaining Geisha's coming in to comfort him. Yuri and Sakura had left first and it had hurt the most because they had been there the longest. New Geisha would come and although they did not replace the ones he had lost, over time Oriya had grown to love them too.

When Oriya had just turned eleven he had learnt why his mother was such a stranger to him, Hotaru had met him in the corridors, on the way to his room. He was ecstatic, explaining that he had just learnt a new dance and asking her if she wanted to see. Hotaru had been the oldest Geisha there then; the most experienced and though he never voiced his concerns he knew that she, like Yuri and Sakura before her, would eventually leave too. She had smiled softly and said that she would love to later but that his mother was asking to see him. He stared up at her, slightly flushed from the dancing, eyes wide with childish naivety and asked, as if it had been the most natural thing in the world.

"Which one?" After all, he had many mothers; every Geisha within KoKakuRou was a mother to him in their own right. Hotaru had smiled at this and ruffled his hair, kissing the top of his head endearingly.

"Your mother, your real mother, Kotori-sama, chibi." She explained chuckling softly, "come on Ori-chan, I shall take you there," she took his hand and led him through the establishment, he stopped when they passed the garden, tugging at her Kimono and asking if they could go out and play. She had smiled, gently stroking the side of his face. "Later chibi, first you must speak with your mother," he shook his head, refusing, but when she crouched down infront of him, running her hand through his hair and asking that he do it for her, he had agreed.

She had smiled and rubbed his hand that lay clasped within her own, leading him to the office. She stopped just infront of one of the doors, smoothing down her hair and Kimono and then doing the same to the young Oriya stood beside her. Making sure that they both looked presentable she opened the door and stepped inside the room, Oriya being pulled in behind her. She bowed as she entered the room, Oriya following her lead as he always did.

Oriya had learnt the correct way to bow and rise from said bow at the age of three, Yuri had taught him saying that it was imperative he learn it and that if he learnt nothing else from her in his lifetime it was how to bow and rise correctly. He had nodded, making sure that he did his best everytime, to make her proud.

"Kotori-sama I have brought Oriya-chan to see you, as you asked," Hotaru had said, still bowing, the elder woman had rose from her seat. Walking over to where the two were bowed before her and leant against the desk.

"Good, leave us now Hotaru, you have work to do soon and must get yourself ready." She instructed, Hotaru rose and as she did so Oriya followed, Hotaru merely had to look at him and he bowed once again. With that she had smiled at the boy and left. After a few more minutes Oriya was getting bored of bowing and rose, folding his arms across his chest and half pouting, half glaring at the woman stood before him. "Did I tell you, you could stop?" She had asked coldly, he'd frowned and shook his head, shoulder length brown hair whipping around him.

"No, but I didn't want to bow anymore, I want to go outside and play," she had hit him for that, backhanding the small boy across the face. He had growled and sat up, rubbing his cheek where it had started to redden. None of the Geisha's had ever stuck him like that and he did not understand why this woman thought that she had the right to hit him. She was practically a stranger after all.

"I will not except insolence from the likes of you, you are merely a brat and I expect respect from you at all times do you understand boy?" He had nodded, though he had not meant it. "Now, stand, let me look at you," she had demanded, and begrudgingly, he had rose, standing infront of her as Yuri had taught him to stand. She had smirked, her eyes roaming over him. "Hm, they treat you like a doll, dress you up and teach you to dance as they do. Are they trying to make you a Geisha I wonder," his eyes had sparkled slightly at that thought and Kotori had stood to her full height. Smacking the boy upside the head.

"Itai," he had muttered, rubbing the back of his head, she had chuckled and rolled her eyes.

"You're a fool boy, boy's can't be Geisha, only women can be Geisha. That is why _I _had wanted a girl. So that she could become a Geisha and follow in my footsteps, so that she could take over KoKakuRou and run the place when I no longer could. You can only imagine the disappointment I felt when I gave birth to you." Tears stung the back of his eyes but he stood strong. He wouldn't break down infront of her; she didn't deserve to see him cry.

"If that is all you wished to say to me Kotori-sama," it had always been Kotori-sama and always would be for neither of them seemed to want any different. "Then I wish to be taking my leave now, I am tired." Perfectly spoken, with no emotion in it whatsoever. She had smirked and waved him off, turning her back on him.

"Go you damn brat, get out of my sight," she had snarled, he had bowed. Not because he respected her or because he had wanted to but because he had been taught by his mothers to do so when talking to someone of greater age than he. That is why he had bowed and with that he had left.

He was no further then halfway down the corridor when the tears had begun to fall, slipping silently from his eyes, he had rubbed at them violently with his sleeve causing his eyes to redden and become sore. He didn't care; he hated that woman, wanted nothing more to do with her. He had never been so hurt in his entire life, never wanted to cry so much. He ran to Hotaru's room but the woman wasn't there. He sniffed; rubbing his eyes once again and walking down the stairs. He made his way to the garden and slid the door open walking out into the yard and over to one of the Sakura trees.

He had lay down at the base of the tree and allowed the tears to fall as the petals danced around him, slowly falling asleep. He had been awoken hours later by Arashi and Hotaru who immediately brought the half-conscious boy into their arms. Babbling about how they couldn't find him and had been so worried about him.

"Oriya, where did you get that mark from chibi?" Arashi had asked, gently stroking his hair away from the red mark that was slowly taking on a purple tint. He had yawned rubbing his eyes free from sleep and stretching. He gingerly touched the bruise wincing at the pain the action had caused. "Chibi?" Arashi had prompted he chuckled and ran a hand through his hair, smiling softly.

"Uh… Kotori-sama hit me," he muttered softly, "I got up before I should have and made her angry, I'm sorry I didn't mean to but I wanted to go outside." Oriya explained himself so quickly that it took the two women a few moments to understand what he had said. "Please don't be mad at me," he had begged, hugging Arashi tightly, she sighed softly, petting his hair as she glanced over at Hotaru the two Geisha sharing a look as the boy sniffled softly.

"We're not mad at you Oriya but you have to be more careful around her, we'll teach you how to act around her, we just don't want to see you get hurt again." Hotaru explained softly, kissing the boy's head. "Now come on, it's time for bed," he had slept in Hotaru's bed that night. The woman telling him a bedtime story in an attempt to get him to fall asleep, around half an hour later he had fallen into a peaceful slumber and a few minutes later she joined him. Oriya never saw the tears that had slipped silently from her eyes that night and he would never know of their existence either.

About five months later he had run to Hotaru's room to show her the new trick he had learnt to do with the fans. He slid open her door and froze in the doorway; she was sat on the very edge of her bed, wearing her best Kimono, just staring at the door. It took him less than a second to notice the bags sat beside the bed and work out that just like Yuri and Sakura, she was leaving. She rose and he ran forward, tears streaming from his eyes, he practically threw himself at her and she wrapped her arms around him, holding him close.

"No, please, don't go Hotaru-san, don't leave me, please," he begged, tears welled in her eyes as she ran her hand through the silken brunette hair.

"I've got to chibi, I can't stay any longer," she explained stepping back and walking over to the desk where a small box was sat. She lifted it and walked over to the boy, placing it in his hands and lightly kissing his forehead. "I'm going to miss you Oriya, promise me that you'll take care of yourself and maybe one day I'll see you again." She explained allowing the tears to fall as she rose to watch him open the present. He just nodded at her and removed the ribbon. Lifting the top off of the box.

Inside was a silver locket, shaped into a heart, the pictures inside were of him and Hotaru on one side and on the other Yuri, Sakura and Hotaru a picture that had been taken just as Hotaru had came to KoKakuRou. He stared up at her questioningly and she bent down, kissing his forehead lovingly once again and smiling softly.

"Yuri, Sakura and I decided to give this to you when I left, keep it close to your heart always Oriya and I promise you, you will never be alone." For that you see is what he feared the most, being alone, being unloved and they all knew that with each one of them that left he lost a part of himself with them and they feared that one day he would just fall apart. Hotaru hugged him one last time before she lifted her bags simply saying "goodbye chibi," before she too left. Just as with the others that night he had slept in her room, crying himself to sleep.

At fifteen Oriya was a teenager, wise to the world and the pain it caused, wise to Kotori, his biological mother. He knew how to dance, how to entertain, he knew how to attract both men and women. In short he knew how to be a Geisha, still, he was not accepted by his mother, simply because he was not a girl. He could fight beautifully was a Katana, turn it into a dance that could captivate anyone that passed, he was strong, he was intelligent, he was beautiful, he was everything anyone could ever want yet Kotori despised him.

Somehow he was ok with that, eventually the woman would grow old and he would take over KoKakuRou, they both knew this and didn't Kotori resent it. She made his life a misery for that year, Arashi the only thing keeping him sane. Halfway through the year when he was at his lowest, she too left. Her present to him was a beautifully crafted Asian pipe; he put it in his draw and wept for a whole day. The next day he had gone out and stood on the bridge not far from the restaurant, staring at the water and jagged rocks below and thinking about how easy it would be to end it all.

He felt so alone, so numb, so dead, he didn't want any of it anymore. Didn't want the cold feeling he got by being alone. A gust of wind blew past him as he considered throwing himself onto the rocks below and just ending it all, though as the breeze blew his Yutaka back slightly the silver heart locket revealed itself, dancing weightlessly on the wind. He lifted it, staring at it lovingly and remembering Hotaru's words, suddenly he didn't feel alone anymore.

When he was sixteen he met Muraki Kazutaka for the first time…

They had simply been passing each other in the corridor, both late for classes, silver had caught gold, they did nothing more than lock eyes briefly and then had continued on their ways. For days Oriya could not get the image of the boy out of his head, he's slip up in his sword practice, he'd drop the fans as he twirled them. He'd trip as he danced and all for what? A flash of silver that had come and gone? It would take him years to realise that Muraki Kazutaka would always have that affect on him. He would always hold that power over him, to make him lose focus and trip… it would take him even longer to realise that even though Muraki made him trip, he would catch him each and every time…

The next time they met had been in class; they had been paired together for a school project about Japanese history or something. They had sat in silence for an eternity, merely staring at each other; Oriya had finally broken the silence residing between the two of them. Leaning forward and holding out his hand, a smirk tugging at his lips.

"Oriya Mibu," the other boy had just regarded him with silent indifference before he had held out his hand placing it within the others.

"Muraki Kazutaka,"

"Nice to meet you,"

"I concur," It had never occurred to Oriya in those first few moments of meeting the other how they would end up, that they would become best friends, that they would remain best friends for a long time to come. It never occurred to him that Muraki would one day do the things he was destined to do, and that he himself would be the one to hide his horrible secrets from the world. The thought never crossed his mind just how close they would become, and why would it?

It didn't take them long to discover that there was something they really liked in the other, something that attracted them to each other. They could sit for hours and talk or they could do the exact opposite, sit for hours on end in silence. The time they spent together though was never uncomfortable; the silence was never unwanted, it was merely always a moment of calm reflection. Both boys lost in their own worlds, usually thinking about the other, though they would never admit to that. It would take them years to discover that, that is how things would always be between them.

The first time Oriya had brought Muraki back to KoKakuRou had been a week or two after they had met. They had crossed paths with Michiru and Miyu on their way to Oriya's room, the two Geisha merely smiling at the brunette. Giving him an all knowing look, he had only rolled his eyes. At some point the Geisha within the restaurant had stopped being mother figures to him and had simply become friends all except for two or three. Hinoto had come to KoKakuRou sometime after Arashi had left, taking her place. Shortly after her two more had been brought there, Mika and Noriko.

They were the three who were left from his childhood, his three remaining 'mothers' as it were and though he would never admit to it, he feared the day when they would leave. They had all become so important to him and he couldn't stand to lose another. They walked through the corridors in silence, Muraki following just behind the brunette, like a shadow. It was strange looking back at it now to think that one day Muraki would have his own room within KoKakuRou, that he would come and go as he pleased.

Hinoto stopped Oriya as she passed, grabbing hold of his arm and stopping him in his tracks, smiling at him softly as she turned him to face her. With a soft sigh she ran her hand through his hair, staring disapprovingly at the uniform that he was currently dressed in. She had never liked it, saying that he never looked as beautiful in it as he did when he was dressed in his Yutaka's. He would just smile at her and shrug; saying that there was nothing he could do about it.

"Oriya, sorry, will you be joining us this evening?" She asked with a soft smile, he just tilted his head in confusion, raising a perfectly shaped eyebrow.

"I thought you were working," he stated. Muraki just watched the exchange in silence, it would take him several years to work out that he had felt ever so slightly jealous of that woman that night, and even then he would never tell Oriya because he knew that the brunette would never shut up about it.

"I am, later, Kotori-sama decided not to open until late tonight,"

"Whatever suits her, the stuck up cow," Hinoto frowned disapprovingly and he just shrugged smirking softly. "Sorry Hii-san but it's true, oh, and yeah, I'll join you later." She nodded, lightly kissing his forehead before glancing over at the platinum haired boy stood behind him. Following her gaze Oriya stepped aside, gently grasping Muraki's arm and bringing him closer, "sorry ka-san, this is my friend from school Muraki Kazutaka, Muraki this is one of the women who helped raise me, Tsukiyono Hinoto,"

"A pleasure to meet you Muraki-chan," she had said with a bow and Muraki felt the jealousy drip away, he too bowed and the woman smiled warmly as he did so.

"The pleasure is all mine Hinoto-sama," he stood to his full height once again,

"Such a polite young boy, maybe our dear Oriya could pick up a few of your ways, I think it would do him some good." She joked, Oriya had just rolled his eyes, Muraki and Hinoto had bowed once again before she had turned, kissing Oriya on the cheek, before she headed off down the corridor telling Oriya not to be late as she went.

After that, it was a frequent occurrence for Muraki to come round after school they would go and sit in Oriya's room or out in the garden. Kotori had started to watch the two from her window, thinking that neither noticed. Muraki had however, sometimes he would simply turn his head, look at her, then turn his attention back to Oriya as if he had not noticed her at all.

A while later Saki came into Muraki's life, he would go to Oriya's more and more, sometimes staying the night, or for several nights in a row. Only ever speaking his concerns to the brunette, telling him that there was something about his new stepbrother that he didn't like. That he didn't trust, Oriya would listen occasionally telling him little snippets about his real mother and they found yet another common ground in the hatred of a loved one who they simply could not love.

The only night that Kotori had ever come to Oriya's room was the night of his seventeenth birthday. It was late, Hinoto, Mika and Noriko having thrown him a party for the occasion, then he had returned to his room with Muraki. The silver-eyed male had placed a box on the bed, beautifully wrapped, a single red rose lying on the top of the box. Just the flower had amazed Oriya, his fingers gently caressing the blood-coloured petals. He had been shocked by how sentimental his friend could be. That was the first time Muraki Kazutaka had ever given anyone a rose.

The paler male had leant forward, taking the flower from the brunette and sliding it into the dark silken hair belonging to his friend. His hand had lingered on the others face, staring into his eyes; Muraki had smirked, lightly stroking the soft flesh with his thumb.

"So beautiful, like a doll…" Muraki had muttered softly, Oriya had simply smiled, he knew of his friends little obsession with dolls. Had seen the rows of them in the others bedroom, he could understand, Muraki liked beautiful things, whether they were perfect or broken, he loved them just the same. Dolls were beautiful, dolls were perfect whether they were perfect or broken and that it why Muraki loved them as he did. "Open your present Ori…" he had whispered almost seductively.

Oriya had smiled, tugging at the red ribbon and watching as it fell away from the box, he then lifted the top and gasped in shock. He slowly lifted the doll from the box, a Geisha girl in a black and red Kimono, long brown hair in perfect ringlets. Light brown eyes bordering on gold stared up at him blankly. He turned to look at Muraki in shock, the doll must have cost a small fortune, the silver-eyed male had leant forward, gently brushing his cheek against his friends.

"It reminded me of you, so beautiful, so perfect," Muraki had whispered softly into his ear as he had stroked through the silken hair belonging to his best friend. She had chosen to interrupt then, coughing to gain their attention. Muraki had slowly moved away, his hand sliding through Oriya's hair as he moved until it eventually slipped away to rest back against Oriya's body.

"What may I assist you with Kotori-sama?" The brunette had asked, voice low as he lifted the doll and brought it to sit in his lap, his hand roaming over perfect porcelain.

"Don't be so hostile Oriya, can't I simply come and see my son on his birthday?" She asked from the doorway, he snorted, refusing to look at her, still focusing on the doll.

"You haven't bothered for seventeen years, why ruin such a perfect record?" Muraki smirked slightly at his friend's antics, with time he would realise that he loved Oriya's quick-fire temper. The way the brunette would not back down from an argument or give up. He loved it, because it was part of Oriya…

"Let's not fight Oriya, we have company, speaking of which aren't you going to introduce us?"

"Not if I can help it," The brunette ground out; he ripped his gaze from the doll to the woman stood in his doorway, eyes narrowing warningly. The woman merely smirked.

"Apologies, Oriya, I merely wished to meet the boy my son so frequently brings back to his room." His mother explained, a smirk on her face, he knew what she was hinting at and he didn't really care what she thought the two of them did within the confines of his room. If he ever did have relations like she was suggesting then there were people who he would have to tell, because they meant so much to him.

She was not one of them.

"Go. Now, I did not invite you here, so leave," Oriya ordered, never backing down from the woman's intense gaze, Muraki bit his bottom lip gently, Oriya had looked so perfect in that moment. So calm, so defiant, so in control, Muraki, even back then had wanted to strip him of that control.

"Fine, I'll leave, but first I have to give you your present," she explained walking over to the bed and placing a rectangular box down infront of Oriya, he glanced from it to her, obviously unimpressed.

"Hm, what is it? A bomb? A disease? Death wrapped in a pretty little box?" He had asked monotonously, she had merely cackled before rolling her eyes and motioning for him to open it and see for himself. He glanced over at Muraki who merely shrugged and smirked, lifting the doll from Oriya's lap and into his own as he mindlessly stroked the perfectly curled hair. Oriya sighed, removing the ribbon and lifting the lid to see two fans held within. He lifted one, opening it with a practised ease, then closing it and staring over at his mother, no emotion at all displayed on his beautiful face. She smiled and laughed softly, knowing that he knew what she had meant with the gift, she decided to elaborate anyway.

"From tomorrow Oriya you shall work at KoKakuRou, and when I say, you will dance there, if you manage to bring in enough profits when the time comes, all of this will be yours and I will leave. Vanish into the distance, you shall never have to see me again. I'd say that's the best present you've had all day." He'd just smirked, dropping the fan back into the box and dropping the package carelessly into the draw on the bedside table before having the doll passed back to him from Muraki. Their hands brushed in the exchange and it would take them some time to work out the sensation that shot through both of them as a result.

"I have many fans, Yuri, Sakura, Hotaru, Arashi, they all came before you baring fans, beautiful fans far prettier than the ones you just gave me. Not only did they give me the fans they taught me how to dance with them too. Therefore theirs will always hold more beauty than yours ever could, because theirs had sentimental value, theirs were beautiful and warm in every way. Yours are cold and ugly, so I shall never dance with them. Besides that, I was already given the best present of the day, before you walked in, from my best friend." Oriya had explained, staring at Muraki as his hands ghosted over the dolls face.

Muraki had just chuckled, eyes shimmering in the darkness, as he stared at Oriya holding the doll in his hands, Oriya in himself was such a beautiful doll, and maybe that is what had drawn Muraki to him in the first place. The brunette was a living-breathing doll, the first one he would ever come across. The first one he would ever lust over and the only one that he would ever feel so strongly about. Muraki didn't know then if it was love or not he felt for the brunette, and he still didn't know that now, because Muraki didn't even know if he could feel love or not. He just knew that he felt something, something intense for Oriya, and in Oriya's mind, that was enough. Or he believed it to be enough…

When Oriya was eighteen he danced for the first time at KoKakuRou and Muraki, although the two no longer went to school together and although the silver-eyed boy had changed considerably over the ordeal with Saki and had moved away, was there to watch him. Oriya would come to realise that Muraki would always be there to watch him, if only to make sure that no one else would look at him in to wrong way or touch him indecently.

Yes Muraki had changed considerably after Saki, no longer the sullen, somewhat shy innocent silver-eyed boy but a confident, imposing, somewhat psychotic man. Kotori didn't like him being there, he frightened away customers apparently, she didn't seem to realise that he came for that exact purpose. No one but him, should ever see _His_ Oriya dance and with time he truly did become _his _Oriya. No more 'Ori-chan, Oriya-chan or even Ori-kun,' no he simply became know to Muraki as 'My Oriya,' at first he hadn't minded at all.

For three years Oriya was not allowed to dance, given that for the first two he had, he had managed to draw in so many customers that subsequently got frightened away by his insane friend. Kotori had grown tired of men piling in only to run out in fear, never to be seen again. Oriya may have brought in the money, but Muraki made sure to frighten the customers away, so that Oriya remained _his _and solely his. As such for three years there had been no sign of Muraki, he had left one night and gone to 'work' on whatever it was he did. Oriya had been crushed, the Geisha trying to console him only to find that they couldn't.

He had never felt more alone and he cursed Muraki for leaving him this way.

At twenty-three though, with Muraki's three year absence, Oriya had asked Kotori to let him dance once again. She had considered for several days before nodding and telling him that very night, saying that if he did well, she would see how much money she could get for him. He had shuddered internally, but with Muraki gone, all he had wanted to do was to earn enough money to take over KoKakuRou and see Kotori leave the place once and for all. So he had agreed to these terms, silently praying that Muraki would show up so that he would not have to go through with his and Kotori's agreement.

He danced that night… the place had been packed to exploding… he had stared out at the audience to note that…

Muraki was not there…

He danced that night, danced with all his heart and soul, with all the pain and despair that lay within him, he cried and collapsed onto the floor and the room rose to applaud him. Amazed and breathless at the display that had just taken place. He had bowed, thanking them before rising to his feet and stalking off into the garden.

"You better be fucking dead Muraki Kazutaka," Oriya had snarled, lighting up the pipe Arashi had given him before she had left and letting his head fall against the trunk of the Sakura tree. His mother had appeared beside him in the darkness, she had approached silently though he knew that she had been coming from at least ten metres off. He had, for a brief second of delusion, allowed himself to think that perhaps it was Muraki stalking over to him in the darkness. She chuckled, shattering the illusion and kneeling down beside him.

"Hm, interesting, no Muraki tonight and what a turn out it was, my dear, it's time to see how much I can get for you," she had muttered passing him a small box. He had snarled throwing it against the opposing Sakura tree and standing to face her, Yukata and silken hair dancing on the wind around him. The pipe held so tightly in his grasp that it threatened to snap.

"You're selling me? I'm sorry, I remember you once telling a young boy that boys could not be Geisha, yet you propose to sell me as one?" He snarled yet his voice was still calm, Oriya was always so calm. So in control even when everything was falling down around him, even when he didn't want to be. He would eventually come to realise that the only person that could make him lose that control was Muraki.

"Hm, that was then, this is now, I still don't think men can be Geisha but I'm not adverse to selling you as one. You want KoKakuRou and rid of me, then do what must be done; I'll begin preparations. I think your twenty-fourth birthday would be appropriate for a bidding war, ne, Oriya?" He had merely regarded her with silent indifference. She had shrugged and walked away, chuckling darkly to herself. He sighed, sitting against the Sakura tree once again and bringing his pipe to his lips. What did it matter anymore anyway? Let the bitch do what she wanted, he'd be free of her soon.

When he was twenty-four his mother sold his innocence to a man by the name of Asakura Shuichi, she sold him for more than any Geisha had ever fetched. He had smirked demanding that she keep her promise, she had said that she would be gone before he returned. He had chuckled, telling her to stay till tomorrow, saying that he wanted to see her leave. Bid her goodbye and what not. She had replied with an indignant 'whatever' and stalked off to her room.

That night he was taken to the meeting place, a hotel in Kyoto, he was taken to room 166 and given a keycard. He had let himself in, entered an empty hotel room, he had sighed and began to walk through the, surprisingly large, hotel room. A white coat was draped over the chair positioned infront of the mahogany desk, but he payed it little mind. The white net curtains leading out onto the balcony danced on the wind. With a soft sigh he stepped out onto the balcony, staring out at the darkened streets of Kyoto.

He was so caught up in the view that he didn't sense the man advancing towards him, didn't hear the heavy footfalls. Didn't even register another being in the hotel room until an arm wrapped tightly around his waist, a hand being placed over his mouth. He tensed in shock and thrashed out slightly. Soft lips pressing against his neck. He continued to struggle, albeit vainly, wanting to know whom the man was.

"Ssh, my beautiful little doll, you should know I won't hurt you," Oriya froze, a shiver running through his entire body as the voice processed inside his head. Tears stung his eyes, making them burn slightly as each and every word rang painfully clear within his skull. As realisation hit into him like a truck leaving him breathless. The hand slipped away from his mouth, he tried to form words, to speak, to even let some sound of acknowledgement slip from his lips but he just could not express anything he wanted to say.

He spun around in the other male's arms and smashed his lips against the others, it was pure impulse, he couldn't think of anyway to express his feelings through voice so he chose another way. The other male smirked, returning the kiss, forcing the brunette up against the railing and slipping his tongue inside Oriya's mouth. Oriya's hands ran through short hair, down the others back, feeling every part of him. Trying desperately to prove to himself that the other was actually there and that this wasn't just some cruel dream that would fade and leave him weeping.

After what seemed like an eternity they pulled apart, Oriya throwing himself at the other and wrapping his arms around him, hugging him tightly whilst hiding the tears building up in his eyes from view. He growled, simply repeating 'you bastard, you selfish bastard' over and over again as he hit out at the other's chest. He glanced up, amber meeting steel, and the metal bluish colour eye that had been there for almost five years now. Oriya had never asked about it, and he never would. Really he just didn't want to know…

"Five years Muraki, five fucking years, where were you, you bastard," Oriya growled, tears falling from his eyes and staining the elders suit. Muraki just smirked, running his hand through silken brown locks, his other hand lifting Oriya's chin, allowing him to see they others face clearly. Still as beautiful as ever, he'd smiled and licked a tear away from the soft skin, smirking at Oriya's mild shock.

"Don't cry my little doll, it makes you painfully beautiful," Muraki whispered seductively, suddenly things began to clear and the blood on the white three-quarter length jacket was obvious. The knife on the desk, coated with blood was obvious. The blood running out from the closet and pooling just outside the closet door was obvious, he stared up at Muraki in confusion, Muraki had just smirked, that was all he had to do.

The night of Oriya's twenty-fourth birthday after he had been sold to Asakura Shuichi, a man that was dead long before he even met him, he realised two things…

That he loved Muraki with all his being… and that the man he loved was a cold-blooded killer,

Before he could contemplate on this fact for too long Muraki pressed his lips against the brunette's once again and Oriya didn't resist, his hands fisting into the platinum hair of the other man. Forcing them closer, not that either seemed to mind, Muraki pulled away, dipping his head so that he could whisper into Oriya's ear lowly.

"Bed, now," Oriya smirked, slowly walking towards the bed, Muraki following behind him…

That had been the first time they had slept together, Oriya's first time with anyone though it was obvious to him that Muraki had been with others. That had hurt him slightly and when the tears had burnt his eyes he had known that it was not because of the physical pain.

It will never escape Oriya's memories that Muraki did not wait for him, nor will it ever escape his memories that his first time with Kazutaka, had been in a hotel room with a dead body lying in the closet…

After that night he had returned to KoKakuRou with Muraki, the other man had stayed to watch Oriya's mother go, smirking as she had shuffled out of the door with her bags. She did not look back as she left. Oriya had closed the door and leant against it, he was silent for a long time, everything sinking in. He owned KoKakuRou, it was his to govern as he pleased, no one could dictate or look down to him any longer. He did not have to explain himself to anyone; he did not have to abide by anyone's rules other than his own. He was free, and the smile that swept across his face as he stood before Muraki told him that the brunette liked his newfound freedom.

Muraki had left the next day…

Over time Oriya would realise that, that is how it would always be. Muraki would show up out of the blue, Oriya would be glad to see him, would hide his murders from the world, feed him, give him a place to stay then he would leave. Each and everytime. Oriya would resent and hate him as he left and whilst he was gone, then when he returned he would welcome him with open arms, and willingly take him to his bed.

Muraki Kazutaka would always cause him to trip, shining Platinum blinding him and causing him to stumble. Nobody else could make him lose focus, only Muraki and it was something that would eventually become an annoyance to the brunette. There would be times when he no longer wished to trip for Muraki, yet he always would because his love for the cold-hearted psychopath was so deep that he would never be able to escape from it.

Years came and went and with them older Geisha's left and Oriya had to bring in new, younger geisha's to take their place. Long gone were the days of the Geisha's taking care of him and mothering him, now it was his turn to take care of them, to be a father to them. Hinoto however had stayed and for that he was grateful, sometimes he needed a familiar face, sometimes he needed a mother to run to, a shoulder to cry on. He wasn't quite sure what her job was, he supposed she was a personal advisor to him and the young Geisha's residing within KoKakuRou.

She helped him with the business and the general running of the restaurant and he was grateful for her help, grateful that she was still there to help him because there were times when he didn't know if he could handle it on his own. Mainly when Muraki left, he was not averse to saying that he moped when his platinum haired lover left. Because he did, he moped, he moaned, he raved and ranted about all that was wrong and annoying with Muraki Kazutaka. Not that anything ever came of it.

Several years later when time had seemingly lost all relevance to him Muraki appeared on his doorstep, speaking of his discovery of a 'new pet.' Asato Tsuzuki had entered his life and so Oriya was placed on the proverbial shelf. Left to catch dust as his friend, his on off lover, pondered over his new 'toy.' He hadn't known it then but just because Muraki didn't want him at the time didn't mean that anyone else could have him, no, Muraki Kazutaka had never been one to share.

Oriya discovered this late one night when he had been serving a customer, the man had taken a particular fondness to Oriya. The man himself had been nice, attractive, Oriya hadn't loved him, but he could have, with time. Maybe that was why Muraki had done what he had done. Killed the man in cold blood as he had walked home from the KoKakuRou and then asked Oriya to hide his murder. Oriya merely stared at his friend and demanded that he get out or be killed himself.

Muraki had left, smirking darkly, returning to whatever he had previously been doing safe in the knowledge that Oriya was still his. Just because he wasn't playing with him didn't mean that he was someone elses toy. No, far from it, he was still very much Muraki's. A few months later Muraki had once again graced the garden at the back of the KoKakuRou, a bouquet of red roses in his arms. Oriya had watched him advance on him, watched him hold out the bouquet in a way that told him to take them, Oriya just snorted and rolled his eyes.

"Did your dear Tsuzuki turn them down?" Muraki said neither yes nor no, Oriya chuckled bitterly. "I see, I don't like bouquets Muraki, hence why you have never brought me them before, or has it been so long that you have forgotten that," it was a rhetorical question and as such Muraki offered no answer. Still, that annoyed Oriya,

"You're mad at me," Muraki stated, Oriya merely rolled his amber eyes,

"Am I, I can't imagine why," Oriya mumbled sarcastically, Muraki just stared at him, slightly confused.

"Is it because of what I did to that man? If I have done something to anger you Oriya then please, tell me so that I can rectify it." Muraki explained, dropping the bouquet just infront of where Oriya was sat, the brunette neither looked at the flowers nor the man who had brought them to him.

"You're a fool Muraki, I am angry with you, but it is not for that reason, and there is nothing that you can do to correct it." Oriya stated stoically, bringing his pipe to his lips,

"I see, then I shall retire to my room, goodnight Oriya," Muraki had stated, brushing past his friend as he walked into the restaurant. There would be times when Oriya would wonder why he kept that room free for Muraki. Why he let the psychopath into his establishment, into his bed, into his heart? He would wonder a lot of things and yet he would never know the answer to any of them so he merely continued as he always had, because what else could he do?

The night when Muraki had brought Tsuzuki back to the KoKakuRou had been the final straw, days and nights he had spent listening to Muraki babble on about this man. For days and days and weeks and months he had bitten his tongue when it came to speaking of the shinigami. Finally however he drew blood and could hold his tongue between his teeth no more. When he had heard the other Geisha's and the Maids talking about Muraki bringing his little pet back here to his restaurant, to his home, everything seemed to snap. Everything that kept him cool and in control, everything he had learned being taught as a Geisha and a sword master just snapped and for the first time in his life, he could see no grey, no black, nor white he could merely see red.

He had stormed into Muraki's room to see the man pinning the shinigami to the floor, if he would have been calm he would have simply stood there, staring in annoyance until one of them noticed his existence. However, he was not calm, nor was he in the mood to stand there placidly and wait for someone to notice him. No, he was angry, severely angry. So he had done the only thing that had made sense at the time, he had kicked Muraki in his thick head then screamed at him but whatever he had said was long forgotten to him now. It had been said in a flight of fury and disappeared when he had regained his calm.

He did however remember telling the both of them in no uncertain terms to get out, then he had personally seen to slamming the door in both of their faces. He refused to talk to Muraki for days after the incident and even when they were speaking, he wouldn't talk so much, simply listen to what Muraki had to say. Then when asked for his opinion on the matter he would retire to his room, saying that he was tired and they could continue the conversation the next day. They never did.

Then one day Muraki came to him with a key card and told him that he would not bother him again after that night. Oriya didn't know why then, but he had grabbed hold of the platinum haired male. Telling him not to go, asking him not to be a fool and stay with him. They had had their ups and downs, their fights, but he still loved him, he was still his friend. He knew now that he had been so upset because he didn't want to be left alone.

Muraki had been there for him for so long, they'd be friends for an eternity, when the most important people in his life had left him, Muraki seemed to easily fill their places. He was a friend, a companion, a business acquaintance, a lover; he was so much to Oriya that the brunette didn't know how he would cope without him.

He would be alone…

Ever since Oriya had been a child, he had been terrified of being alone…

So when Muraki had removed his grip on him and walked away, he had collapsed onto the floor, and cried, because he couldn't be alone.

When he had been fighting Hisoka for the keycard he realised something… that the boy was very similar to himself, he didn't want to be alone, was scared of being alone just as Oriya himself was. He was fighting so hard, prepared to loose his eternal afterlife just so that he didn't have to be alone. Oriya had momentarily remembered brilliant platinum; perfect silver and as always, had slipped. For once however he was glad he had slipped, the boy had won and he found solace in the fact that at least one of them would not be alone.

The older shinigami's had gone on ahead, leaving the boy to change in Oriya's establishment, as he had left the blonde had passed him sitting by the koi pond, smoking his pipe. He had stopped, standing just behind him. Oriya knew he was there, knew there was a question he wanted to ask, yet he merely waited for the boy to ask it. He wasn't in the mood to push.

Wasn't really in the mood to breathe yet he did it, didn't he?

"Why?" he glanced back at the boy, his eyes demanding he elaborate if he wished for an answer, Hisoka crouched down infront of him, staring at him for the briefest of moments. "Why did you let me win," Oriya smirked and shook his head,

"I didn't, you won,"

"You slipped,"

"I always slip in regards to him, it's to be expected, I always have and I always will. Maybe I could have steadied myself, caught myself for the first time in god knows how long, but then I would be admitting to being alone, and that scares me more than anything." They both fell silent, each lost in their own internal musings, " I noticed something when we were fighting today, I noticed your fear of being left alone and in you I saw a part of myself. Then I thought of him and as I always do when that happens I tripped. You won, he knew that it would happen though, which confuses me. Maybe he really does want to die and leave me alone once and for all." Oriya fell silent, Hisoka stared at him for a while before leaning forward and lightly kissing his lips. Oriya arched an eyebrow at this,

"Thank you," Hisoka muttered softly, then stood, "perhaps when this is all over I can come see you again Oriya-sama," Oriya nodded softly,

"I think I would like that, but you'd best be on your way, go, save your friend, you still have a chance, I didn't realise it until just now, but mine's been dead for years, ever since that fateful day when he first took a human life. Good luck Hisoka," and with that he rose to his feet and walked into KoKakuRou.

It's been a while since that day but Oriya has long since lost track of the days and time in general, he buries himself in work in the hopes that he will not realise that for once in his life he actually is alone. It's not working but he does not yet wish to admit that. He knows that one day he will have to face up to the fact that Muraki is gone, he's not sure whether that means he's dead, probably not, but he's gone none the less and Oriya does not wish to dwell on that matter.

He's sat in his garden as he thinks back on his life, messily scribbling down his memoirs inside his mind as if to preserve them as best he can. He still has the doll Muraki brought him all those years ago, the one that resembles him somewhat horrifyingly well. He's not sure why he keeps it, a love for a friend that is now strained and breaking apart each and every day perhaps compels him to keep it. If only to remind him of better days.

There's a part of him that hates to look at it; hates to walk into his room and see it sat on the dresser. That part of him wants to grab it and throw it across the room, wants it's face to shatter as it hits against the wall, wants to leave it to turn to dust. That part of him simply wants to forget, wants to forget Muraki, forget that the boy he once knew and loved, that the boy who gave that doll to him all those years ago is now a merciless killer. Wants to forget that he loved and possibly still does love that man despite how much he's changed, despite how truly evil and psychotic he has become.

Then there's that other part of him, the part that never wants to forget, wants to remember that boy with the soft smile and naïve silver gaze, wants to believe that that boy is still in there somewhere, buried deep down underneath the immense hate and anger. That part that wants to believe that Muraki still loves him, that Muraki is even capable of love anymore. He doubts it, but that doll, sitting there beside his bed gives him hope and he thinks that's why he keeps it. Or maybe he simply keeps it because it is his last link to Muraki, like the locket around his neck is his last link to Yuri, Sakura and Hotaru. That childish part of him still believing that if he keeps the things they gave to him that he will never be alone.

He feels the moisture on his cheek, and he knows that a tear has just slipped from his eye, trailing its way down gently tanned skin. He wants to laugh at himself for being so pathetically weak, he doesn't want to cry, doesn't even know why he is. He just feels so confused at the moment, so cold, and so very alone, he's also feeling ever so slightly scared. Being alone has always done that to him.

Several glistening drops of water spill from the heavens and land on his hand, he sighs softly and stands, the rain becomes heavy, soaking through his Yutaka and onto his skin. He sighs, the harsh stab of tiny freezing water droplets slamming into him making him feel oddly at ease.

He's crying….

Though you can't tell anymore, the rain has mixed with his tears, given him a mask to hide behind at his weakest…

He turns and see's Hinoto stood in the doorway leading to the garden, sheltered from the rain and merely watching as Oriya stands and allows himself to become soaked. She gives him a gentle if not confused smile, her eyes are shimmering with a wall of tears and she can see that he's crying, she can see that he's breaking. She goes to speak but whatever it was gets lost before it passes her lips.

He notices the bags beside her and he feels like giving up…

The rain's heavier now, almost torrential and he can't even try to stop the tears. She removes her hands from where they were concealed behind her back; a box is placed just inside the doorway, sapphire blue, a shimmering platinum ribbon wrapped around it. He knows what it means and she knows that he knows. He wants to stop her, wants to run to her weeping and begging, clinging to her kimono and screaming out all his pain.

Though he can't move, he can't speak, all he can do is stand in the rain, the tears silently streaming from perfect gold to mix with the rainwater marring his beautiful face. She wants to hold him, to kiss away his tears, he's practically her son after all, and she feels the overwhelming need to console him. Yet she has tried time and time before and he just gets worse, it's killing her to see him so upset, ripping her to shreds to know there is nothing she can do for him any longer…

They stand and stare at each other, the rain creating the only sound between them and barring them from having to stand in a painful, distressing, silence. Oriya can feel his heart thudding agonisingly somewhere within his chest; he can just about feel the water on his skin. Other than that he's never been so numb… so dead… he watches as a tear slips from Hinoto's left eye, slowly trailing down her cheek. She smiles, rips her gaze from his, bends down, lifts her bags and stalks away.

Oriya stands silently… watching the spot where moments before Hinoto had just stood…

He doesn't know how long he stands there for before everything comes crashing down on him, every painful memory stabbing into him like the rain. Piercing and tearing his flesh like a blade. A shiver runs up his spine and it's not the cold that caused it, everything he loved, everything that mattered in his life is gone. Merely graves within his mind, a missing piece in his heart.

He's alone…

Alone…

Alone… 

Realisation sinks into him, like a dagger sliding into his heart, pushed into him slowly until the hilt bars any further progress into his body. He chuckles darkly, a hollow; empty truly depressing sound falling from his lips in pain soaked waves. Then he collapses onto the ground,

Someone's screaming… wailing… weeping… like a banshee… all the pain and resentment into that one constant unstopping outcry…

He knows it's him but he can't stop it nor actually associate it with himself, he's lost control, and he has no clue how to get it back. All those years fighting to stay in control, stay calm, now all those repressed emotions are pushing in on him, ripping him apart from the inside and he can't keep it in anymore. His pupils are mere slits in the darkness, eyes as wide as they can be; his hands are fisted in his hair as he screams, tugging on the brunette locks so hard that he should feel pain as strands are pulled from his scalp yet he doesn't feel anything.

Shadows play over him and he drinks them in, his mind making them into people they are not, people he's lost…

Yuri… Sakura… Hotaru… Arashi… Kotori… Mika… Noriko… Michiru… Miyu… Hinoto… Muraki… Muraki… _Muraki… _

I'm broken… am I still your beautiful little doll Muraki? 

His mind snarls bitterly as the shadows are consumed by the darkness, the scream echoes around him though he's stopped screaming, now content to just weep and wail into the ground as the rain burns into his back. He can't focus, can't make any kind of semblance out of the emotions clouding his mind. He can't stop crying, can't regain control, can't stop wondering what it is about him that keeps pushing the people he loves away.

"What's wrong with me… what the fuck is wrong with me…" he weeps, shaking almost violently with the force of his sobs. "Why did you go! Why… why…" he asks to no one in particular, he knows that he'll look insane to anyone who see's him… maybe he is insane, the loss of everything that keeps you grounded can push you over the line between sanity and insanity incredibly easily. He doesn't care anymore,

"He'll be the death of you Oriya, he'll toy with you, you'll fall for him, do anything he asks without hesitation. Then he will grow tired of you and leave you, everyone will leave you eventually Oriya and then what will you do?"

Kotori's voice rang in his mind and he realised that he hadn't listened to her then, but she was right wasn't she? Muraki had toyed with him, he had fallen in love with him, hidden his murders for him in exchange for his company, then he had found Tsuzuki, he'd left, and then everyone else left too leaving Oriya alone. He's alone and scared and he doesn't know what else to do but fall further into his insanity, it seems easier than clawing his way back out. He's screaming again that horrible shriek of anguish slipping from perfect rose petal lips.

He's too lost to feel the hand stroking through his damp hair, every touch, every sensation is just an illusion created by his mind now, he can't tell the difference between reality and imaginary. The line blurred, smeared with tears and pain. He wants it to stop, wants the pain and the despair to end, swiftly, like a blade across the throat, he wants red, masses and masses of red pooling around him. Thick crimson soaking into the already waterlogged grass in his garden.

He wants the red to seep down into the earth and be absorbed by the roots of the Sakura tree beside him; he wants the petals to turn from pink to bright blood red. He wants to tree to weep crimson petals of sorrow and misfortune…

He wants to forget, wants to forget it all… everything… from Yuri and Sakura at the very beginning to Muraki and Hinoto at the very end. He wants to forget the pain, the torture, the loneliness, the resentment, KoKakuRou, the doll, the rose, the touch, the kiss, the sex, the boy with the silver eyes, the man with the fake blue eye, the horrible lies, the silken platinum, the doctor, the fans, the dances, the sword, the perfection, the calm, the key card, the shinigami's, the murders, the tears, the rain, the present lying abandoned in the doorway, the insanity… the mask… shattered and broken as it lies… he wants to forget it all…

He wants to forget whom he is, his name, everything that makes him who he is…

Everything… 

His eyes are closed; the sensation of a hand stroking his cheek, wiping still falling tears from sun kissed skin. He can't work out if someone's there or if his mind is just playing tricks on him. He doesn't want to open his eyes, just incase when he does; there's no one there. He sobs softly, completely and utterly broken. His feels soft breath ghosting against his ear and holds his eyes closed even tighter.

"Open your eyes for me Oriya, I haven't seen them in so long," the voice soaked into his mind, slowly, recognition hitting into him as he mentally processed each word. His eyes opened immediately, crystalline tears flying from long dark lashes. He gasped silver staring back at him and soft platinum hiding the unnatural mechanical blue. Everything stopped, all the confusion, the panic, the millions of thoughts, memories and emotions, just stopped, so easily. The tears however continued silently falling from brilliant amber.

"M… M… Muraki?" he questioned, reaching out and placing a shaking hand against the pale skin of the others face. The doctor chuckled slightly, nodding as he gently caressed Oriya cheek,

"What's wrong? What has made my Oriya so upset?" he asked softly, the brunette smiled weakly, the smile not quite reaching his eyes.

"Everything, everyone left Muraki, even you and Hinoto just now, why, why you bastard, why do you keep leaving me? Am I not good enough for you?!" Oriya snapped, still unable to fully control his emotions,

"Of course you are, I think you might even be too good for me, I didn't mean to be gone for so long. However I had to heal before I could come and see you again," Oriya blinked, frowning softly, repeating the word 'heal' as a question. Muraki smirked gently kissing the brunette's forehead. "Hm, don't worry about it, I'm ok now. Not a day went by when I didn't think of you Oriya, my beautiful, perfect, little doll." He stated running his hand through his friend's hair. Oriya growled lowly, coming back to himself and pulling away from the other, standing and stumbling away from him.

"No, you didn't think about me, you never think about me, you think about you and you think about Tsuzuki. I'm merely an afterthought, a backup for when he turns you down, I'm tired of it Muraki, tired of you proving Kotori right, and making me wrong. What am I to you Muraki? Your little fuck toy that you only use when there's nothing better on offer? Your stupid little doll to do with as you please? You're destroying me Muraki, you're driving me insane and I can't take it anymore…" Oriya stated,

"Hn," Muraki didn't say anymore than that but before Oriya could continue the matter any further the doctor was before him, forcing his lips against the brunette's and taking advantage of the gentle gasp to slip his tongue into his friends mouth. Oriya moaned, eyes closing despite himself, he couldn't do this anymore, not if Muraki didn't care. He managed to find just enough strength to push the platinum-haired male away. Panting softly as amber eyes narrowed on the other male.

"Stop it! I can't do this Muraki, I can't let you hurt me anymore, you can't imagine how much it hurt to sit here and wait for you day after day. You can't imagine how painful it was to think that you were dead, and how it hurt even more to think that you were alive and had just abandoned me. You can't even begin to imagine how agonising it was to stand there and see Hinoto in that doorway with her bags packed and all ready to go, placing that package on the floor and leaving just like everyone else I love. I can't do it anymore Kazutaka, once more… I know that if it happens even just once more, it'll kill me." Muraki stalked over to him, cupping his face lovingly.

"Shh Oriya, I shall bear all of your pain for you, my love," he explained, gently kissing Oriya's closed right eye. Amber eyes shot open as realisation sunk in, grabbing hold of Muraki's coat and staring at him in mild shock.

"L… love? M…me?" Oriya stuttered out, seeming unable to believe that anyone could love him, Muraki smirked softly, placing a chaste kiss to the sword master's lips.

"Yes Oriya, I don't know if it's love my Oriya, I don't know if I am capable of such an emotion but my feelings towards you have always been intense, so much more so than any I have ever felt towards any one else. I'm sorry if it's not enough but it's all I can offer you." For a long time Oriya merely stood there, looking at the platinum haired man and asking himself if that would be enough.

In the end he didn't think it would be, but as always he did not refuse as Muraki's lips found his, did not refuse as the Doctor led him to his bed. He went willingly, as always…

And as always when he awoke the next morning Muraki was gone…

The only indication that the other had even been there was a China doll sat atop the table in the centre of the room. Long brown hair in perfect ringlets surrounded her like a halo, she had pale blue eyes that stared hollowly at Oriya and was dressed in a black dress, she held a red rose in one hand, matching the colour of her blood red lips. A black envelope was propped up against the doll.

Oriya growled and began to get dressed, he was angry, despite knowing that this was how it always was and how it was always going to be between the two of them. Still he wished that for once he could wake up and see Muraki lying beside him. He stared at the doll for a long time trying to decide whether to place it beside the other one on his dresser and read the letter or to smash it to pieces and rip the letter apart. He hadn't even decided when his hand found the envelope when he opened it and removed the black paper from within, written upon the paper in white ink it read simply;

Happy Birthday… 

Oriya thought it read a bit light, surely Muraki had more to say than that, surely he knew that Oriya would have wanted him to have taken the time to write more than that… but then again maybe he just didn't care enough to. He allowed the letter to fall to the floor in thousands of tiny ripped up pieces before walking out and closing the door on the room he kept reserved for Muraki. Shutting the door on it for good, he never entered that room again…

XxxxxX 

_Ok, this is going to be a series of fic's written for Oriya, so far I believe that there will be three 'books' as it were in the series. It will be known as the 'Red' series this is Red and I currently have about half of Red II written up, if you're interested in reading the other two books in the series then review and let me know. As much as I love this one I think that ultimately Red II will be my favourite book of the entire series, even though Red III might yet surprise me. If you're interested in the next two in the series then say so in your review and I shall send you a note when the second and third ones come out so that you know they have been put up. _

_I think that Red II could be seen as a standalone but that you would be able to understand certain things more by having read the first. At current I am unsure as to if Red III could work as a standalone, I shall just have to see, _

_Anyway, I hope that you enjoyed reading and that you look forward to the next two books, _

_xxx _


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